


i'm not in love (it's just a game we do)

by lostandlonelybirds (RUNNFROMTHEAK)



Series: Rumors [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe, DCU (Comics), Harley Quinn (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson has fingerstripes and we all love them, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Hurt Dick Grayson, Implied/Referenced Cheating, It doesn't count if you say "no hetero", Jason Todd is Bad at Feelings, M/M, No beta we die like Dick’s patience and denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Suicide Squad (2016), Power Dynamics, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, This is the straightest thing I've ever written, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, and also kind of an ass oops, and it's fucking porn, but he gets sex instead, fingerstripe appreciation, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23606296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RUNNFROMTHEAK/pseuds/lostandlonelybirds
Summary: “Wingding,” She greets with a knowing grin, grabbing his wrist with a firm hand and pulling. He lets her lead him towards a dark alcove, away from the eyes trailing after them and the whispers. He’s used to those whispers, those stares, on both sides of the mask, but he’s feeling a bit more raw tonight, more vulnerable.He tries not to stare at the foundation-covered tattoos, like the ‘Daddy’s Lil’ Monster’ right above her left breast, or the fading marks that could only be from Joker on her neck. She catches him anyways, eyebrow raised.“Whatcha here for? Cause I ain’t done nothin’ wrong in a few weeks.”He spins her lightly, delicately, and she lets him, unable to hide the stutter of her breath as he presses against her.“You,” Nightwing answers, pinning her between the wall and him.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Harleen Quinzel, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Joker/Harleen Quinzel, Roy Harper/Koriand'r/Jason Todd
Series: Rumors [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700710
Comments: 38
Kudos: 123
Collections: Dick Grayson Rare Pair Challenge





	i'm not in love (it's just a game we do)

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm debating applying for the Dick Grayson zine, and figured I'd write some practice smut to see how I feel!!! This is the first thing I came up with, and it's very different from my usual, so??? Enjoy, I guess??

It starts with a drink, maybe two, a brief comment on Bruce, and the entire situation escalates, spiraling so far out of Dick’s control he’s left wondering where the hell everything went wrong, where _he_ went wrong.

“ _You’re **nothing** ,”_ Jason hisses, eyes flaring as Dick lets a single tear slip. “ _You don’t mean a **thing** to me.”_

He’d normally fight that, push back and rage with the same intensity Jason did until they fell into bed, an angry, writhing tangle of limbs fucking and fighting, until blood-stained kisses and tear-laced bruises were the only reminders of their arguments, of the harsh words Jason started and Dick spit back.

Normally, Dick knows Jason better, but Jason hadn’t even told him he’d slept with Roy and Kory. Dick hadn’t known until Roy and him called to catch up, and Roy commented on how surprising it was that he and Jason’s relationship was open, to some extent, when Jason was on Outlaw business.

It’s news to Dick, a gaping wound that feels like Roy had shoved a dagger up his ribcage through his heart. It’s a constant ache, an ache he’s ignored, and denied, and avoided until he _couldn’t_ avoid it anymore, until Jason snapped at him for Bruce and Dick snapped back about everything he’s been holding back in hopes that it was all just some fucked-up dream.

The lies, the sex, the hatred Jason seemed to stare at him with…

Jason’s always called him Goldie, and he’s always left surprised when Dick gets ugly too.

Jason dumps him, and this time, _this time_ , he finally lets him.

And so Dick leaves. He puts on his suit and he _runs_ , runs until he’s out of Blüdhaven and back in Gotham, back in territory that he’s been avoiding for weeks, fights with Bruce escalating every time Red Hood pops up next to Nightwing, his entire family giving him the cold shoulder anytime Jason started _killing_ because obviously, it’s _Dick’s fault_.

And after _weeks_ of standing his ground, _months_ of giving and _giving_ and taking and taking until he couldn’t anymore, until he literally begged Jason to stay on his hands and knees, dropping even the _façade_ of having dignity…

He runs until he’s in a familiar club, down by Amusement Mile, until Harley Quinn’s dancing in his line of sight, a gold and black blur as she moves like water, slipping just out of every man’s touch. Some know better, seeing the Joker’s girlfriend and the punishment sure to follow, but others are dumb enough to try. Harley must be in a good mood because she doesn’t shoot them with the gun visibly strapped to her thigh, seemingly satisfied with dancing out of their reach smugly.

He walks towards her and the crowd parts, seeing Nightwing where Dick is. He’s not here for business, not here for anything he _should_ be here for. He’s here for the same reason he came last time, on a rain-soaked night before Jason had taken him and ripped him to shreds – _pleasure_ , and this is a big enough mess _without_ bringing his mask into it, but he’s feeling reckless tonight, feeling _stupid_.

“Wingding,” She greets with a knowing grin, grabbing his wrist with a firm hand and _pulling_. He lets her lead him towards a dark alcove, away from the eyes trailing after them and the whispers. He’s used to those whispers, those _stares_ , on both sides of the mask, but he’s feeling a bit more raw tonight, more _vulnerable_.

He tries not to stare at the foundation-covered tattoos, like the ‘ _Daddy’s Lil’ Monster’_ right above her left breast, or the fading marks that could only be from Joker on her neck. She catches him anyways, eyebrow raised.

“Whatcha here for? Cause I ain’t done nothin’ wrong in a few weeks.”

He spins her lightly, delicately, and she lets him, unable to hide the stutter of her breath as he presses against her.

“You,” Nightwing answers, pinning her between the wall and him.

Her laugh is more of a bark than a real laugh, one of her many nervous habits. It’s a powerful feeling, unnerving someone who’s killed men without batting an eye for nothing more than _offending_ her or trying to own her. She hates feeling like property, even if she lets Joker play her like a violin.

Dick knows the feeling intimately, perhaps too well.

“What are ya expecting, Pretty Boy? Did ya come here thinkin’ I’d just let ya have your way?”

Nightwing’s hands move to cup her waist, leaving a trail of wet, sucking kisses down her neck. He doesn’t leave marks, not yet, because she’s not always open to that sort of thing.

She shivers, even if her back’s still stiff.

“I came here thinking we could help each other out again, Harley. I already know your mental damage, and you know mine.”

She turns to face him, wobbling slightly on her sky-high heels. She’s beautiful, Dick’s always known she’s beautiful, but it’s breathtaking as she shoves him against the wall, pinning him with her arm at his throat. He grins at her, cup already unbearably tight.

“Brain-damaged Robin dump ya on your ass again, toots? How’s that _my_ problem?”

“Don’t act like the Joker didn’t drop you off here to get away or like you’ve actually gotten off any time in the last month.”

Her crimson lips frown, and she lifts her arm from his throat, eyeing him carefully.

“You think you’re that good?”

Nightwing crowds her, letting his hands trail down her thighs meaningfully.

It’s a dangerous game they’re playing, a fire neither of them should be giving into. They will, though. They have before, and it looks like neither of them learned a thing. He guesses they’re both terrible students in love and pain, with too high a tolerance and too little self-respect.

“I know I am,” He whispers in her ear, breath a ghost of a caress on her bare neck. The ‘ _Puddin’_ choker is damningly absent, and they both know it. “You do too.”

“I’m not some _floozy_ ,” She insists, even as she melts in his arms, leaning in the way she had the last three times this had happened, when alcohol and desperation had overtaken common sense, when the fact that she kills and he doesn’t had been less a line and more a warning. “I love Mistah J.”

Nightwing pauses, stilling against her and letting his thumb rub circles in her inner thigh, just beneath the sheer surface of her club dress and just below the already wet folds he knows well. She relaxes, shoulders slumping slightly as she shudders.

“And I love Hood, but they don’t give a shit. This is mutual relief – we’ve worked together before.”

She nods, biting her lip.

“It means nothing,” Harley replies, blue eyes flickering between Dick’s mask and his lips.

“Exactly,” He agrees, staring back at her and trying not to think of Jason, of the not-so-distant breakup and blow up over the Outlaws.

That’s what’s so great about Harley. They’re both fucked up and in love with someone else, and Harley is the opposite of Jason. Where he’s tall, she’s short. Where he’s walls of rippling muscle, she’s lean and compact. Where his eyes are a glowing green, hers are a bright blue.

She’s soft and warm, and Jason’s rough and cold. Dick knows he’d never cry Jason’s name with Harley the way he would with anyone else. Besides, nothing had ever pissed Jason off more than when Dick showed up to patrol covered in Harley’s lipstick before they’d started dating, and if Jason wants to dump him, he has no say in Dick’s partners.

“Nothin’ at all,” She murmurs, and he covers her mouth with his.

He’s forgotten how she tastes, forgotten how she _feels_ , until the vanilla and cherry of her drink reaches his tongue and her lips part in a gasp. He swallows it, swallows every _delicious_ noise she makes as his hands cup her ass and _lift_ , breathing and licking his way into the addictive warmth of her mouth.

“ _Fuck…”_

She responds enthusiastically, legs wrapping around his waist as soon as she can, pulling him tight. She trails a finger down the lines of his suit, teasingly, grinding against him as he lets out a small whine.

“Someone’s a little _hard_ ,” She says, working at the clasps on the back of his suit. “Not so _Boy Wonder_ now, are ya handsome?”

He kisses her again, to shut her up, and she nips at him in response, nails like talons against his back as they expose more and more…

Harley leans back far enough for her hands to touch the floor and flips back.

“Suit off.”

He grins, knowing this game.

“You first.”

She smirks back, sauntering towards him with a swing in her hips. His knees feel a bit weaker than before because any sort of tolerance he’d built up for Harley’s effect on him had been lost in the months with Jason’s touch chasing away any remnants of other partners, any thoughts of crimson lips around his cock sucking until he came or pink and blue shadowed eyes tightly shut as he pounds into her…

“Take it off yourself, Boy Wonder.”

He rips it off her without hesitation, feeling the fabric tear slightly as it gives. She frowns but doesn’t comment, and he makes a mental note to replace it. Her mouth smashes against his as her pale flesh is revealed, biting down hard enough to draw blood.

So _that’s_ how she wants to play tonight…

“You want it rough?” He asks, voice a bit more husky than he means it to be. She nods, drawing up one of his hands.

“I’ve always liked these things,” Harley says, eyeing the fingerstripes, “I want you to fuck me with them first, big boy.”

He nearly chokes, forgetting how blunt she could be when she’s horny.

“Bossy,” Nightwing tsks, pulling her closer, “Good thing I find that hot.”

Her grin’s just a bit vicious, and her eyes are all heat.

Harley’s studded black lace bra and red panties meet the same fate as her dress, shredded scraps thrown somewhere out of his sight.

His fingers trace upwards slowly, curling towards his target as red floods her cheeks.

“Get a move on,” the ex-psychiatrist snaps, fisting her hands in his hair roughly. “We don’t got all night!”

“Oh, but we _do_ ,” He purrs, voice dripping with sin, and eliciting a strangled moan when he slips the first finger in. “ _Fuck_.”

He had been wrong in saying she’s wet because she isn’t _just_ wet, she’s positively _dripping_. He slips a second finger in without an issue, pumping them both in and out of her tight ring of muscle without any real resistance. She bites down on his shoulder when he brushes his thumb against her clit roughly, shaking with need.

“ _More_ ,” Harley moans, not even bothering to suppress it, and the fact that any number of people could walk in on this, could hear them, only turns Dick on more. “ _More.”_

He adds a third, pumping in and out faster each time she mewls.

“ _Harder… faster…”_

She comes on his fingers a minute later, and her muscles tighten around him. His cup shifts uncomfortably.

“Haven’t lost it, I guess,” Harley admits reluctantly, still flushed from her orgasm.

Dick smirks, licking and sucking the white substance off where it’s painted on his gloves. Harley raises a brow, and he just hums.

“Delicious.”

She rolls her eyes, tugging on his suit pointedly.

He strips slowly, feeling the fabric slip against his skin as it pools at his waist. Harley, ever impatient, pulls it the rest of the way down. He kicks his boots off, and she sets her heels on the ground, crashing into him the second she’s done.

It’s infectious, the taste of her, the _smell_ of her, and he forgets that this isn’t supposed to mean anything, that this is only a one-time thing and they’re never going to find anything that lasts in each other. It’s not love – not like what they feel for the men who just hurt them, who they _want_ to hate but _can’t_ – but at the moment, it’s enough. At that moment, he feels less broken, more put-together, and he lets himself pretend it _is_ love.

They’re both ready to go, bare to the world, and when Dick looks into Harley’s blue eyes for permission, he doesn’t see green.

And as much as he’s cursing Jason, as much as he’s so _incredibly_ pissed off and hurt, he hesitates.

“Fuck me,” She says, blunt as always, so he shoves her against the wall and pushes in.

It’s warm, and not just because of her body heat. She’s burning, and she’s _there_ in ways Jason never is anymore, kissing him just the way he likes as he fucks into her, the sound of slapping skin filling the room. They’re both moaning so loud that Nightwing _knows_ the entire club can probably hear what they’re doing, can hear the girlfriend of the Joker being fucked by the “Nice Bat”.

Her nails cut sharply into his back as they wander down, leaving a trail of red he’s pretty sure is bleeding, but he’s so far gone he doesn’t care. All he tastes is her, all he _hears_ is her, and when she comes again, inner muscles clamping down on his cock, he damn near comes, grip bruising on her hips as he chases his own pleasure.

He pulls out, and all Harley has to do is say one word:

“Come.”

(and the next morning, Harley is the first to leave, bruises and bite marks and scratches all the reminder Dick has of their mutual mistake. He buys her that dress, and they both pretend it never happened)

**Author's Note:**

> *cringes* thoughts?


End file.
